Flight of My Thoughts
by youngvolcano
Summary: Kiki and Tombo both have dreams, but will their dreams come together as one?
1. Kiki

Days like these were Kiki's favorite kind. The air felt cool and crisp, the sky looked a hazy grey blue, as if it may rain any minute. She loved basking in that feeling, the feeling of uncertainty, the feeling of not knowing what's going to happen next. Her skin braced itself for oncoming drops as she lazily floated through the sky, feeling her dress whip around her legs softly. Lately, it had been easy for Kiki to appreciate the simple things in life, like uncertainty, like the smell of freshly baked bread wafting through Ohsono's bakery, and...like the feel of Tombo's back against her chest as they biked down to the beach. That was the simple thing she appreciated the most. Any interaction with Tombo seemed to awake her to everything around her, trigger her senses into overdrive, make her aware of all the beauty she overlooked when he wasn't beside her. She knew that he would prefer to fly...but Kiki liked to ride on his bike with him, to remind her of the first day she met him.

When he sped up beside her on his bike, distracted the police from catching her and ruining her one chance at proving herself to be independent...if it wasn't for him, would she even be this happy, in this beautiful town? She liked to remember the way her cheeks got hot when he whispered, "What a cool witch!," when he thought she was out of earshot.

She was so taken aback, so nervous to be approached by someone that way. He's never been anything but kind to her. Lately, Kiki's mind has been wandering to Tombo much more frequently. Images of him in his pink button down shirt, hurrying into the bakery and buying sweets and breads nearly everyday, just for a chance to talk to her.

To her. The plain, boring, witch with a sour personality and eyes like mud.

She wasn't pretty like the other girls, and she was reminded of that every time one of them spoke to him. Why didn't he crave to be around them, instead of wasting his time trying to talk to her? Ever since she moved to this town, ever since she saw him being swept away into the sky by a runaway blimp, heard his screams through the crackling television speakers, ever since she saved his life, grabbed his clammy hand and gave him years and years of life left to live...to do with what he chose...she wanted him to choose her. To choose her to live those years with. The feelings still confused Kiki, still made her cheeks hot like the day she met him. They keep her from telling him, because of how sick she feels when she imagines his freckled nose crinkling as he pushes his glasses back and shakes his head no with a solemn expression plastered on his face. She can't lose him as a friend. She can't lose his goofy grin and infectious laugh, his flying machines and closet full of colored scarves.

She can't lose someone so unique, so mesmerizing. Never could she do that.

What she can do is nothing. She can let the feeling fester inside her gut like a disease, let them overtake her entire body, feeling her bloodstream with tingles and warmth. And when one day, she lets them fade away as she watches Tombo kiss a faceless, nameless girl on the forehead...she can rebuild herself, and find a warmth that won't shake it's head no


	2. Tombo

"Thomas! Thomas Kapori, get your lazy ass out of bed!" A slim figure clad in striped boxers fell from the bed with a thud. "Does she have to call me that? It makes me feel so...ordinary. Thomas. It's such a plain name, y'know? I think Tombo really does suit me better, I don't care if you think it's goofy. It's original. Who doesn't want to be original, huh Ma?" He spoke words unheard to anyone but himself, words he spoke nearly every morning when his full name was screeched loud enough to wake the entire city.

"THOMAS. AKINO. KAPORI. NOW." He still didn't bother to respond. In his opinion, she didn't deserve a response. She always treated him like he was an idiot, a dreamer with dreams that would never come to fruition. She did nothing but put him down, starting with the moment he woke up to the moment he went to sleep. He wanted to escape, to fly away, somewhere that she couldn't bring him down to Earth.

Somewhere that no one could find him, could tell him that his wishes were impossible.

He wasn't stupid, he knew nothing was impossible. If someone thought that made him stupid, then happiness for them will be an impossible feat.

Tombo ran from the house as quick as he could, making as much noise as possible to alert his mother that he was awake, and leaving. He didn't bother to get his bike, he wanted to walk, to take everything slow for once. No one to rush him, to wake him up from beautiful dreams. Sometimes, he felt like life itself was a beautiful dream. It had to be, right?

People say most dreams are too far-fetched to ever come true, to ever hold a shred of truth or possibility. If that's the case, then how did airplanes come to be? Dirigibles? Hot air balloons? Someone dreamt they were floating through the sky, or soaring at top speed. They dreamt they were above everyone, above every worry and every negative thought. So close to the sun, the clouds, the endless canvas of blue. How could you feel anything but positivity? Tombo spent hours staring at the sky, or sleeping and falling back into his own thoughts of flight and carefree feelings.

Truthfully, he knew this was less productive than actually working to make these dreams come true that much quicker...but sometimes, he needed them right then. He needed them to suck him in and never spit him out again. He needed to fly. But even apart from dreams, life itself was so full of things that seemed the equivalent to flying. Like the smell of brand new books, the feel of cobblestone through loafer soles, or the shimmer a bob of chestnut hair gives off in the afternoon light.

Sometimes, Tombo closed his eyes, and he didn't see the sky, didn't see himself flying his man-propelled plane. He saw the tip of an old broomstick, and the ankle of a young witch. He wanted to see more, see cheeks and lips and eyes, but he got too embarrassed to let his mind wander to a girl who thought he was nothing more than a clown. How could a witch like her, a girl who grew up among the clouds, ever think of him any differently than his mother did? How could a girl like that think his dreams of flying weren't just...boring, or silly?

To her, it's so simple, it's like breathing, so he must look like such an idiot, talking of nothing but flight, the one thing she knows better than the back of her hand. If he keeps her behind his eyelids, the outline of her dark dress flapping against his lashes, he won't have the chance to make an idiot of himself, and that's the one thing Tombo simply can't do anymore, for himself and for everyone around him. It's best if he keeps to his dreams


End file.
